The Stinking Rose

I've come to realize - even before my first garlic harvest - that shoving a dried out clove into the ground for a bountiful summer crop was, simply put, an act of faith. 


There I was in mid-October, methodically pushing the pointy side up, root side down a couple inches deep into the rich tractor tilled soil. Like guardian angels warding off the winter chill, Jeff and I placed a thick and fluffy blanket of hay over the beds to protect the hibernating garlic from the freezing rain and snow. Then we left.


Unlike a summer garden, I won't see the real fruits of my labor for several more months, or at all, my heart taunts me with the fear of an underground disaster. But the tender green shoots popping through to the sun are a sure sign that spring has come again and with it, the promise of garlic enough to savor and share - garlic with lyrical names like German Porcelain*, German White*, Music* and Linda's, garlic so fresh and flavorful that Linda said I'll never buy the grocery store variety again.  


*Garlic ordered from Peaceful Valley Farm and Garden Supply in Grass Valley, CA www.groworganic.com  

Mother Nature Puts On A Show

How hot and satisfying the "cowboy" coffee tasted after a fairly good night's sleep at the farm! The air was cool, the dew was on the grass and the morning sun promised a warm and pleasant late summer's day. The corn fields loomed large before the fall harvest and the hills and trees were still green and verdant.

As I sipped my first cup of coffee by the campfire, I savored the memory of the night before - an evening ATV ride through the hills and valleys of Covo Hills guided only by our headlights and the night sky.

I was amazed to see a doe and her two fawns running through the upper fields. I pressed Jeff not to scare them. They stopped dead in their tracks when we noisily approached - underscoring the statement "like a deer in the headlights". Then the mama jumped over a fence of wild bushes leaving the fawns behind to stand and stare in her direction. I quietly yelled for the doe to come back, when one fawn discovered a hole in the bushes and the other followed to be reunited with their mother, I could only hope.

Our next stop was the new lodge building on the top of the hill. We could see the campfire glowing down in the distance, but up where we were there were no other visible lights to disturb the blackness. I can't remember ever seeing a night sky like we saw that evening. The vast heavens were resplendent with a multitude of stars in varying degrees of brightness. The sight was overwhelming. We easily picked out the Big Dipper and one larger, more luminous star Jeff called a planet. I just laid my head back and stared, thinking of eternity and infinity, two words that have no beginning and no ending - like the scene I was witnessing above. That God created the heavens and the earth, the stars, the moon and the sun, the deer and the corn and all creatures large and small, the plants and the oceans, and then created man and woman in his image is testament to his greatness and glory and a reason to feel forever thankful and loved.